Mail Call
by anna1795
Summary: On a Sunday like any other, Church wakes up to find a most unusual package on the Blue Base doorstep. Surprised, he decides to share the gift with both teams and to remember a special day.


_I love national holidays on Fanfiction, because there seems to be a plethera of works submitted recognizing the true values of the holidays. However, on this particular day, I think that we need to remember and recognize a holiday that has too small of a reputation. Therefore, I believe that I am submitting one of the first fanfictions for Red vs Blue in the setting of the soldiers' holiday, Veterans Day. Happy reading!_

* * *

Every Sunday was sort of a sacred day for the soldiers in Blood Gulch. It wasn't like they were religious or anything (except for Grif, who still claimed that every day was a day of rest since he had adopted EVERY religion), but there was this unspoken rule that no shots were fired on Sunday. Everyone went about their business and, should their paths meet, there was a respectful nod of their heads and they would move on.

Sarge would work with Lopez on the constantly broken vehicles of the Red Team, Grif would sleep and gorge on Oreos, and Simmons would study various anomalies occurring in the canyon or be practicing his banjo while chewing on some vegan snack (as the canyon never changed AT ALL, he was most likely doing the latter). Texas would clean all of her guns meticulously, Caboose would go for a hike with Donut, and Tucker would...well, no one really paid attention to what Tucker did in his free time.

Church was unexpected in his Sunday routine. He would get up at precisely 0730, take a shower, brew coffee, grab the mail and sort through it, and eat a hearty breakfast while enjoying a good book. When asked about his Sunday routine, he would simply shrug and say that it was a weird quirk that he had picked up when he was a kid back on Earth, and leave it at that.

Over the course of time in Blood Gulch, the dates and years seemed to meld together, and even the days of the week were nearly indistinguishable. Yet, for whatever reason, every soldier knew when it was Sunday. And this Sunday, by an odd chance of fate, was no exception.

* * *

Sarge grumbled as the comm. line on the computer started beeping urgently at 0800, which was at least an hour and a half BEFORE he was scheduled to wake up on a Sunday. Scratching at his facial shadow and running a hand through his graying hair, Sarge trudged over to the computer and answered the call.

"Thank you for calling Red Base, this is Sarge speaking, how may I be of service?" he asked tiredly, not necessarily eager to follow the script that he had drilled into every on the base at this hour of the morning.

"Yeah, Sarge, it's Church."

That brought Sarge back to the land of the living.

"I know it's a Sunday and all, dirt bag, but you NEVER call the Red Base."

"Yeah, I know."

There was an awkward pause before Sarge asked, slowly and hopefully, "Are you calling to surrender to the superior Red Army?"

There came a snort from the other end. "In your dreams, jackass. No, I've got something here from the mail drop for the entire canyon. Can we come over?"

This was a rather unusual request. Usually, Command was very specific about sorting between the mail meant for Red and Blue base. Why would they decide to combine all of their mail this time? Surely the economy hadn't tanked THAT badly.

"Um, sure. Whatever, it's Sunday," the Red Leader gave his consent.

"Great. We'll be over in thirty minutes," Church responded. "Church out."

"Sarge out," Sarge replied, cutting the comm. before shouting through the base, "WAKE UP! WE'VE GOT COMPANY COMING!"

There came several groans.

"Sarge, we're stuck in the middle of a canyon, for God's sake! Who would want to visit us here?" Grif complained.

"Who exactly is visiting us?" Simmons asked.

"Should I break out the complimentary welcome gift baskets and make up the guest rooms?" came Donut's voice.

"¿Tengo que a?" Lopez moaned from his recharging station.

"On the double, men! On the double!" was Sarge's only reply as he went to go change into his armor.

Thirty minutes later, the Red Team sullenly welcomed the Blue Team into their base, and they all removed their helmets to remind themselves of the Sunday Truce.

"Okay, I went to go grab the mail this morning, and I found this-" Church began, before he was interrupted by Caboose.

"Is it a present? I love presents! Is it Christmas? Wait, is it a baby in a basket? Can we keep him? We can call him little Church!" the blue idiot asked excitedly and rapid fire before he was quickly shushed by the rest of the men (and Tex) on base.

"Anyways, no, I don't think it's a present." Church pulled out a heavy duty mail bag and unceremoniously dumped its contents on the table. Brightly colored paper and crudely written letters fell onto the table with crayon and marker drawings of stick figures and various national flags of the UNSC.

"Are you sure that Command sent this to the right base?" Simmons asked, picking up a piece of red construction paper with a sticker of the Irish flag on its borders.

"I think so, actually," Tex said, opening a letter. "Listen to this; Dear Veterans, my name is Timmy and I am a 5-year-old at the Saint Francis Orphanage in New Venice on Jericho Three. I wanted to say thank you for all of your hard work in saving us from our enemies and protecting our colony from invasions. We really like all that you do to help us and we want you to come home soon. Thank you so much and-" Tex paused before continuing softly, "Happy Veterans Day."

"Donut, what day is today?" Tucker asked while the pink (excuse me, _lightish red_) soldier opened up his frilly pink planner.

"It is...Sunday, November Eleventh."

"Well, I'll be," Sarge said softly as he examined a child's picture of stick figures saluting an American flag. "It really is Veterans Day."

"Every day just seems to run into each other when you're stuck out here for so long," Tex agreed as she read more letters sent from Jericho Three's orphanage.

"It makes you really remember what we're here for," Church agreed, opening up a folder to see a picture of the entire orphanage and its caretakers with a banner reading, "THANK YOU. COME HOME SOON!"

"You know what? I'm really glad that they sent all of this stuff," Grif said, tacking a few of the letters and pictures on the wall.

"And why's that, Grif?" Caboose asked seriously.

"Well, sure; these pictures aren't works of art, and even I can write better than a lot of these kids. But, you know what?" Grif paused as he examined a hand-drawn UNSC flag. "They remembered that we're here. All the way out at Jericho Three, they were told that we're here in a god-forsaken canyon, fighting for the human race."

"Le dijen que gracias por nos trabajamos," Lopez agreed, tacking up pictures on the wall as well.

"Well, I appreciate all the thanks that they're giving us, and I'm glad to know that we're not forgotten," Donut said.

And so, they all joined in tacking up the pictures and letters of thanks and gratitude that had been sent to them from a bunch of kids that they didn't even know, but who knew that they existed and that they were fighting some battle to preserve mankind. At the end of the task, they all stood back and admired their work. A collage of colorful words and drawings shone down from the wall, uniting the two enemy teams in a common thinking: today was a day to remember that their sacrifice, and the sacrifices of all those before and after them, would never be forgotten.

"Cheers!" Grif started the toast, and they all held up ice-cold beers (or, in Caboose's case, a cold glass of orange juice).

"Happy Veterans Day!" they all shouted, smiling at each other and at the colorful reminders on the wall behind them, tacked around the flags of their combined nationalities.

* * *

_I apologize for any gross Spanish usage by Lopez. Though I have been taking Spanish for a while, I am not confident in its usage._

_I know that, when we were younger and when we are older, a lot of the stuff that we send off to veterans may seem useless, rather childish, and scripted. However, I think that they really appreciate the thought that they are not forgotten, and that we recognize the sacrifices that they are making to help us. As someone aspiring to be a veteran someday, I know that I would appreciate the thoughts and gifts of small children._

_To all those past, present, and future veterans, Happy Veterans Day!_

_anna1795_


End file.
